The Master of Death's Second Chance
by Selacha
Summary: Harry Potter, through inheritance, conquest or plain dumb luck became the Master of Death. And Death isn't happy about what an idiot he has for a master. After revealing just how badly he's been manipulated by the people in his life, Death gives Harry a second chance. A (kind of) time travel fic. There will be bashes of Dumbledore, most Weasleys, others, and eventual Lunar Harmony.


**A/N: Okay, some people might be a little confused. This is not "boy-without-a-shadow". This is a different story entirely. I realized I had no real plans for BWAS, other than a loose plot line and a humorous incident involving Tonks, Fleur and Hermione. So I've scrapped that for now, and have decided to write what every single HP fan writer has ever written: A Time-Travel story. Though, I'm not calling it 'time-travel' per se. More like… dimension jumping, to a parallel universe where they just happen to be a few years in the past. And I will stick to that for any and all discrepancies in the world. I intend this story to be humorous, and will bash most of the Weasleys, Dumbledore (did you know my spellcheck accepts Dumbledore as a valid word? On its own. Weird.), Fudge, and I'm actually not a hundred percent on what to do with Snape. I might ask the readers' opinions. But it should be funny, and hopefully just original enough to stand out. **

**Oh, and picture Death's voice as Christopher Lee. **

**Slight language warning for now, nothing too bad. **

**Oh yeah, money. I am going on the exchange rate of fifteen pounds sterling being equal to one galleon. The amount in the Potter Vault is equivalent to 10 billion dollars U.S. That seems good for a many centuries old family, who kept their finances in order and made many business deals.**

**Disclaimer: Am I an obscenely wealthy British woman who lives in a castle and butchered the epilogue? Then I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

_ "Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor Master of Death."_

_-Xenophilius Lovegood_

* * *

**_"Avada Kedavra!"_**

As the viridian beam of light from Voldemort's killing curse struck Harry's chest, he felt nothing but a light sense of peace as he fell to the forest floor, his vision dimming around the edges. He had done it. Voldemort's Horcrux was gone, and now the rest had the real chance to finish the Dark Wanker once and for all. As he felt his life slowly ebb from his body, Harry couldn't help but reflect on the life he had left behind.

_'Will everyone else make it? Did I give them enough help to finally end this? Will my parents be proud of me? And what about Ginny?'_

Images of the redheaded girl filled his mind, even though he had called off their relationship months ago to try and protect her from Voldemort's wrath. But Harry had seen her fighting in the battle, alongside Luna. She was feisty, one of the many things he loved about her. He had been thinking about her ever since he got back to Hogwarts to find Ravenclaw's Diadem. Funnily enough, he hadn't really given her a thought the previous few months. But seeing her again must have brought back the feelings. Finally, after what felt like hours, Harry's back struck the ground, and the last semblance of life left his eyes.

Harry Potter was dead.

* * *

"YOU JUST HAD TO BE AN IDIOT, DIDN'T YOU?" A deep voice asked into the silence. Harry let his closed eyes scrunch tighter in confusion. He hadn't expected to be insulted the moment he stepped into the afterlife. Okay, maybe a little from Sirius, but that wasn't Sirius' voice. It was too deep, and theatrical.

"I GET ONE MASTER, THROUGHOUT ALL OF CREATION, AND HE'S AN IDIOT. WONDERFUL." The voice sighed deeply. "GET UP, THEN. NO USE LAYING DOWN AND DIRTYING UP THE FLOOR. I JUST DUSTED MONDAY BEFORE LAST."

Harry opened his eyes to find himself, not in front of the Pearly Gates, or in a swirling mass of magical energy, or in the Underworld, or any of the conventional afterlives people write about. Instead, he was in a rather cozy sitting room. He was lying on a hardwood floor next to a chair. A fireplace made of black marble held a crackling black flame, giving off a surprisingly comfortable warmth. The walls were done in a deep, navy blue, almost black, wallpaper. A golden chandelier with a dozen normal candles hung above him, casting a good amount of light into the room. Two large recliners were facing the fire, a small table set between them. The chairs were done in black velvet, with elegant white lace doilies set on the arms. The table had a black stone top, sitting on cast-iron legs carved into scythes, the blades supporting the tabletop. A silver tea tray rested on the table, along with a white porcelain teapot, two cups, and a platter of sandwiches. Rising to settle into the chair closest to him, Harry noticed the other was taken.

A tall man, assuming from his voice, was sitting comfortably in the plush chair. A long black cloak, akin to the ones worn by dementors, covered a slim frame. One leg was crossed nonchalantly across the other. Harry couldn't see his face, as the stranger was holding a copy of the _Prophet _in front of his head. He reached over and flipped a page of the newspaper, still keeping his face covered.

"THERE USED TO BE THESE WONDERFUL LITTLE COMICS IN HERE, YOU KNOW. HILARIOUS TO SEE, THEY WERE ANIMATED TO DO THESE FUNNY LITTLE THINGS. BUT WITH THE WAR GOING ON, AND WITH THE PUREBLOODS ABOUT TO TAKE OVER BRITAIN, I SUPPOSE THEY'LL ALL BE POLITICAL FROM NOW ON. BLOODY POLITICS. SHOULD'VE DONE AWAY WITH IT AGES AGO."

"Wait- who are you? Where am I? And, what do you mean, 'the purebloods are about to take over Britain.'?" Harry finally managed to choke out.

"I'LL ANSWER IN REVERSE ORDER, IF YOU PLEASE. THE PUREBLOODS WILL BE THE MOST ORGANISED, THE MOST WEALTHY, AND THE MOST POWERFUL WHEN THE WAR IS OVER. THE MINISTRY'S A SHAMBLES, THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX IS DEAD, AND ALL THE AUROR'S ARE EITHER DEAD OR TOO INJURED TO DO ANYTHING. IT WILL BE A PRACTICALLY BLOODLESS TAKEOVER. IN THE NEXT TWENTY YEARS, ANYONE BESIDES A PUREBLOOD WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO LEARN MAGIC. MUGGLEBORNS WILL HAVE THEIR MAGIC BOUND AND THEIR MEMORIES WIPED. HALFBLOODS WILL BE TAKEN FROM THEIR PARENTS AND RAISED IN "PROPER" PUREBLOOD HOMES. MAGICAL CREATURE RIGHTS WILL BE NONEXISTANT. MOST MAGICALS FLEE BRITAIN FOR THE COLONIES OR THE CONTINENT. WITHIN A HALF-CENTURY, THE MAGICAL COMMUNITY OF BRITAIN WILL COLLAPSE. AT THIS POINT THE WORLD SEES IT AS A BLESSING."

"No, but, we defeated Voldemort! His Death Eaters are all dead or captured."

"YOU THINK BECAUSE RIDDLE LIES DEAD, HIS IDEAS DIE WITH HIM? ADOLF DIED YEARS AGO, YET YOU STILL SEE YOUNG MEN WITH SHAVED HEADS AND HEAVY BOOTS GOOSE STEPPING IN LONDON WITH SWASTIKAS ON THEIR ARMS. IDEAS DON'T DIE, AND THE PUREBLOODS ARE ALL TO WILLING TO CLING TO THE IDEAS THAT KEEP THEM WEALTHY AND IMPORTANT."

"I… I guess. So, where am I?" Harry managed to choke out, sickened by the thought that the war, and therefore all the lives lost, might have been for nothing.

"YOU ARE IN MY PARLOUR, ENJOYING MY HOSPITALITY WHILE I EXPLAIN WHAT A COLOSSAL IDIOT YOU ARE."

"Hey! Don't call me an idiot! I destroyed Voldemort's Horcruxes, didn't I? Who are you to call me an idiot?"

The stranger finally closed the _Prophet_, folded the paper in his lap and turned to face Harry. A faded gray skull with empty sockets full of shadows in lieu of eyes stared at him from underneath a black hood, and a set of perfectly straight, if somewhat dull, teeth grinned a skeletal grin. The grim spectre slowly stood, and with the sound of tearing cloth a pair of skeletal bat wings ripped out of the back of his robes. He raised his right hand, and with the sound of swords clashing, a long scythe appeared in his hand. At his full height the stranger stood just over seven feet tall, the curved blade of the weapon stooping over his head.

"I AM AZRAEL. THANATOS. HEL. ANUBIS. CHARON. THE COYOTE. THE BOOGEYMAN. THE REAPER MOST GRIM. I, MY DEAR BOY, AM DEATH."

"Oh." Harry kept his eyes on the dark figure of Death while trying to quietly search his pockets for his wand. After a few hurried moments of searching, Harry let out an involuntary groan; he had let his wand fall from his fingers when Voldemort killed him.

"So I really am dead, then?"

"YOU WALKED IN FRONT OF A KILLING CURSE WITHOUT EVEN BUTTONING YOUR ROBES CLOSED. WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

"Okay, maybe a stupid question. But what am I doing here? If I'm dead, shouldn't I go to the 'next great adventure', as Dumbledore always called it?"

Death chuckled, a sound like broken bottles being ground underneath a wobbly door.

"YES, DUMBLEDORE CERTAINLY DID MOVE ON TO THE 'NEXT GREAT ADVENTURE' ALRIGHT. WANT TO SEE?"

Death swung his scythe faster than Harry could even see, tearing a long strip of crackling blue energy in the air. Death gestured his bony hand for Harry to look inside, and his natural curiosity took over. Glancing into the wormhole, Harry's face lost all its color, and he fell backwards into his chair, gagging. A bucket formed in his lap, and he didn't have time to thank Death before it was full. When he could breathe again, Harry looked at Death in horror.

"What the hell are the clowns for? And all the rabid goats? I think I saw sentient lemon drops with spears. And, and did I see a shark wearing a toupee?"

Death nodded. "THAT WAS MONSIEUR FLIPPERS. AND THAT LITTLE SLICE OF RAW, UNADULTERATED CHAOS WAS SPECIALLY DESIGNED FOR ONE ALBUS TOO-MANY-BLOODY-NAMES DUMBLEDORE. IN MY OPINION HE DESERVED WORSE, BUT THAT'S NOT REALLY MY JOB. NOT ANYMORE, AT LEAST. ARE YOU EVEN AWARE OF THE TERRIBLE THINGS HE'S DONE TO YOU?"

Harry managed to resettle himself after seeing where the old wizard ended up. "What do you mean, he's never done anything terrible to me. Has he?"

"HMMM. IT SEEMS THOSE MENTAL BLOCKS PERSISTED EVEN AFTER DEATH. WELL, I'M JUST GOING TO RECAP THE EPIC CLUSTERFUCK THAT HAS BEEN YOUR LIFE, OKAY? STOP ME WHEN I GET TO A PART YOU'VE HEARD ALREADY."

Before Harry could respond Death pulled a loosely rolled scroll from inside his cloak before perching a small pair of nose hugger spectacles before his eye sockets. How they stuck there with no nose to cling to was a mystery.

"LET'S START AT THE BEGINNING. DUMBLEDORE TOOK AN OBVIOUSLY TROUBLED, DEEPLY DISTURBED AND HIGHLY POWERFUL YOUNG WIZARD AND TURNED HIM INTO A DARK LORD BY FORCING HIM TO RETURN TO AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT, KEEPING HIS FUTURE IN HIS OWN CHOICES AND REFUSING THE BOY ANY CHOICE IN HIS MAGICAL LIFE AFTER HE TOOK OVER THE CHILD'S MAGICAL GUARDIANSHIP. YOU KNOW THE BOY AS TOM RIDDLE JR. AFTER CREATING THE MOST RUTHLESS DARK WIZARD SINCE GRINDELWALD, DUMBLEDORE THEN HEARD A PROPHECY FORTELLING THAT ONLY A BABY COULD DEFEAT VOLDEMORT. HE ALLOWED A YOUNG DEATH EATER TO LISTEN IN ON THE PROPHECY, BUT HAD HIS BROTHER STANDING BY TO PULL HIM OUT AT A CERTAIN POINT. FOR YOU SEE, HE FORCED THE POOR SEER TO RETELL ONE OF HER PREDICTIONS. THIS BACKED UP HER MAGICAL CORE FOR THE GIFT AND LEFT IT STUNTED AND NEAR USELESS. DUMBLEDORE LET SNAPE HEAR THE PROPHECY, HOPING THAT VOLDEMORT WOULD BE DESTROYED BY THE BABIES HE WAS TRYING TO KILL. DUMBLEDORE SUGGESTED THAT SIRIUS ACT AS A DECOY, LEADING THE TRAIL AWAY FROM PETER AS THE TRUE SECRET KEEPER. THIS WAS AFTER HE FOUND PETER'S DARK MARK, AND KNEW HE WAS A SPY. HE OBLIVIATED PETER AND THEN LEFT HIM TO BETRAY YOUR PARENTS.

AFTER VOLDEMORT KILLED YOUR PARENTS AND HE THEN DISAPPEARED ALBUS ORDERED HAGRID TO TAKE YOU TO THE DURSLEYS. THIS WAS OF COURSE COMPLETELY AGAINST THE WILL HE SIGNED AS A WITNESS, WHICH STATED FOR YOU TO GO TO SIRIUS, THEN THE LONGBOTTOMS, THEN REMUS LUPIN, THEN MINERVA McGONAGALL, THEN AMELIA BONES, THEN THE TONKS, AND IF NONE OF THEM WERE AVAILABLE YOU WERE TO GO TO THE FLAMELS."

"Wait, the Flamels? As in Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel? Why would I have gone to them?" Harry interrupted.

"THE LORD BYRON HOBSON POTTER II WAS A GOOD FRIEND OF THE FLAMELS. DURING A BRIEF PERIOD WHEN THEY LOST CONTROL OF THE STONE, THE POTTERS TOOK THEM IN AND CARED FOR THEM UNTIL THEY COULD REGAIN THE ELIXIR OF LIFE. EVER SINCE, THEY HAVE BEEN ALLIES OF HOUSE POTTER.

AFTER KIDNAPPING YOU, HE PLACED A NUMBER OF HIGHLY ILLEGAL AND BORDERLINE DARK BLOCKS ON YOUR MAGIC, YOUR MENTAL CAPACITY, YOUR PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES AND YOUR NATURAL ABILITIES. HE THEN LEFT SIRIUS TO ROT IN AZKABAN, KNOWING THAT HE WOULD REGAIN CUSTODY IF HE WAS FREE. WHILE YOU WERE BEING ABUSED BY YOUR RELATIVES, DUMBLEDORE WAS CLEARING OUT YOUR VAULTS. HE STOLE OVER 200 MILLION GALLEONS FROM YOUR FAMILY VAULTS. THAT IS OVER 3 BILLION POUNDS. HE DESTROYED THE PORTRAITS OF YOUR PARENTS THAT WERE STORED IN THE VAULTS AS WELL. HE USED A GOOD PORTION OF THIS MONEY TO FUND HIS ORDER, BUT A LARGE CHUNK ALSO WENT INTO HIS OWN VAULTS, AND THE POCKETS OF HIS POLTICAL ALLIES."

"Oh my god." Harry muttered, clutching his head tightly between his hands. How could Dumbledore do this? He trusted the man, he cared about him. Hell, he loved him like a grandfather, and this is how he treated him behind his back all these years? Harry stood and took the bucket from his lap and walked over to the wormhole, before dumping the contents into it. He also chucked in the bucket for good measure.

"You fucking rat bastard! I hope you never get out of there! It's just the sort of 'great adventure' you deserve!"

"FEEL BETTER?"

"A little, actually."

"WHERE WAS I…? AH, YES. AFTER TEN YEARS AT THE DURSLEYS YOU WERE WEAK AND EASY TO MANIPULATE. YOU FELL INTO THE WEASLEY TRAP WITHOUT A MOMENT'S HESITATION."

"No, not the Weasleys? They were in on it too?"

"TO AN EXTENT. MOLLY WAS PROMISED A GREAT DEAL OF GOLD TO HAVE HER FAMILY CARE FOR YOU. GOLD FROM YOUR VAULTS, BY THE WAY. ARTHUR WAS OBLIVIATED OF THE ACTUAL CONVERSATION, AND BELIEVED THAT DUMBLEDORE HIMSELF WAS PAYING THEM AS A THANK YOU FOR LOOKING AFTER YOU. PERCY WAS TO BE OBNOXIOUS TO YOU, INSTILLING A DISLIKE OF THE MINISTRY. RONALD WAS PAID TO BE YOUR FRIEND, AND REPORT ALL YOUR ACTIVITIES TO DUMBLEDORE. THE TWINS REFUSED TO BE IN ANY PART OF THIS PLAN, AND WERE CONTINUOUSLY OBLIVIATED WHENEVER THEY DISCOVERED THE PLOT. GINEVRA HAD A CRUSH ON YOU, AS MOST YOUNG WITCHES DID. BUT AFTER THE CHAMBER INCIDENT, IT WOULD HAVE PASSED AND SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD FRIEND. BUT MOLLY HAS BEEN DOSING HER WITH POTIONS KEYED TO YOU, IN ORDER TO TRY AND GET THE TWO OF YOU MARRIED. YOU HAVE BEEN DOSED WITH POTIONS KEYED TO HER SINCE YOUR FIFTH YEAR. FATE ALREADY HAD SOMEONE FOR HER, AND SHE WAS HEARTBROKEN."

"Out of pure curiosity, who was it?" Harry carefully picked up a sandwich, and nibbled it. It was surprisingly tasty, though a little dry.

"THE BROWN GIRL. LAVENDER? I THINK IT WAS LAVENDER."

"Ginny… was supposed to end up with Lavender Brown?"

"YES. WHY ELSE WOULD LAVENDER DATE RONALD? IT WAS TO TRY AND HIDE HER SEXUALITY, AND TO STAY CLOSE TO GINNY. AND RONALD HAS BEEN STEADILY DOSING MISS GRANGER WITH LOVE POTIONS SINCE YOUR FOURTH YEAR."

"What!? Send me back, I'm gonna kill him! I'll rip his sneaky, backstabbing head off and shove it up his arse!"

"IT WILL DO NO GOOD. HE DIDN'T USE TOO MUCH WHILE YOU WERE ALIVE BECAUSE HE FEARED THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR RAGE. BUT NOW, HE HAS NOTHING TO FEAR. TONIGHT HE WILL SLIP HER A DOSE ALMOST STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL HER, LACED WITH A SUBJUGATING POTION. HER FREE WILL WILL DISAPPEAR, AND SHE WILL BE LITTLE MORE THAN A SEX TOY FOR RONALD."

"Why are you telling me all this? Some sort of punishment? A grand payback for being such an idiot?" Harry muttered, slumping into his seat, tears threatening to spill for his friend.

"I AM TELLING YOU SO THAT YOU KNOW WHAT WENT WRONG AND HOW IT COULD BE FIXED. YOUR FIRST YEAR, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN TOLD OF YOUR STATUS AS LORD POTTER AND EMANCIPATED. DUMBLEDORE ALSO INTERFERED WITH YOUR MAGIC TO FORCE THE HOLLY AND PHOENIX WAND TO CHOOSE YOU, SO YOU WOULD HAVE THE BROTHER WAND TO RIDDLE. IF HE HADN'T MANIPULATED THE SORTING HAT, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN PLACED IN RAVENCLAW. WITHOUT THE MENTAL BLOCKS YOU HAVE A GENIUS IQ. THE STONE WAS A TEST FOR YOU, THE TRAPS WERE DEFANGED BY DUMBEDORE. THE TRUE DEFENSES WERE QUITE FORMIDDABLE.

IN YOUR SECOND YEAR, DUMBLEDORE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ACTUALLY SETTING UP THE CHAMBER FIASCO, BUT TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THAT FACT TO SYSTEMATICALLY DISTANCE YOU FROM THE OTHER STUDENTS. HE DID NOTHING TO DISCOURAGE THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN RUMORS, AND FORCED THE PROFESSORS TO DO NOTHING EITHER.

THIRD YEAR SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED AT ALL, SINCE SIRIUS WAS INNOCENT. BUT BY ALLOWING YOU TO SAVE HIM, BOTH OF YOU BECAME EVEN MORE INDEBTED TO THE OLD MAN.

FOURTH YEAR… FOURTH YEAR WAS A DISASTER. DUMBLEDORE KNEW MOODY WAS REALLY CROUCH, BUT NEEDED YOU TO GO OUT AND BE EVEN MORE OSTRACIZED. THE JUDGING COULD HAVE EASILY BEEN OVERTURNED BY A SIMPLE MAJORITY VOTE OF THE JUDGES, THOUGH DUMBLEDORE AND CROUCH NEVER WOULD HAVE DONE IT. BY ALLOWING YOU INTO THE CONTEST, THEY WERE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING YOU AS AN ADULT, ANOTHER CHANCE TO BECOME EMANCIPATED. THE TASKS WERE DESIGNED TO KEEP YOU AWAY FROM THE OTHER STUDENTS, AND AGAIN HE FORBID THE PROFESSORS FROM DOING ANYTHING ABOUT THE BLATANT TORMENT. IT NEARLY DROVE POOR MINERVA SPARE, BUT THEY HAVE ALL FOLLOWED ALONG WITH WHATEVER THE OLD COOT HAS SAID FOR SO LONG, THEY NO LONGER BELIEVE HE CAN BE WRONG. YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED HERMIONE TO THE YULE BALL AS WELL. IT WAS THE LAST CHANCE FOR THE TWO OF YOU TO ENTER INTO A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP, BEFORE RONALD'S MEDDLING MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE."

"But, I don't like Hermione like that! She's like my sister, I don't love her or anything." Harry argued loudly, heat rising in his cheeks.

"YOU WERE LEFT IN AN EMOTIONALLY AND PHYSICALLY ABUSIVE HOME. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT LOVE FEELS LIKE. YOU CARED ABOUT HER, AND THROUGH KNOWING A FEW THINGS THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE, DECIDED SISTER WAS WHAT YOU THOUGHT THE FEELINGS WERE. THE SAME WITH LUNA LOVEGOOD. NOW, DUMBLEDORE DECIDED THAT VOLDEMORT WOULD BE RESURRECTED WITH YOUR BLOOD, ALLOWING THE LINK BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU TO GROW EVEN STRONGER. HE PLANNED ON USING YOU AS A MEDICATED CRYSTAL BALL WHEN THE WAR STARTED AGAIN, SO HE COULD PLAY THE PART OF THE WISE HERO. YOU SPOILED THAT BY STAYING SANE AFTER THE WHOLE ORDEAL, THOUGH HE QUICKLY ADJUSTED HIS PLANS TO MAKING YOU MISERABLE OVER THE SUMMER."

"Why? Why would Dumbledore do this?"

"BECAUSE HE WANTED THE FAME, THE GLORY, AND THE ADORATION OF THE PEOPLE FOR BEING THE ONE TO FINISH OFF VOLDEMORT. HIS PLANS WERE DERAILED WHEN HE PUT ON THE RING, SEALING HIS DEATH, BUT THE WILY BASTARD MANAGED TO CONTROL YOU EVEN AFTER HIS DEATH. HE TOLD YOU TO DESTROY THE HORCRUXES, INCLUDING THE ONE IN YOUR HEAD, WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE. DID YOU KNOW THAT THE UNSPEAKABLES HAVE A SPELL TO REMOVE HORCRUXES FROM OBJECTS? OR THAT DEMENTORS CAN KISS THE SOUL FRAGMENTS LOOSE? OR THAT GOBLINS CONSIDER HORCRUXES, OR 'SOUL JARS' AS THEY CALL THEM, TO BE THE ULTIMATE FORM OF COWARDICE, AND WILL ALLY THEMSELVES TO ANY CAUSE TO DESTROY THEM? IF YOU HAD LET ANY OF THESE GROUPS KNOW, THEY WOULD HAVE USED ALL THEIR EFFORTS TO DESTROY THE CURSED OBJECTS, WITHOUT REMOVING SOME OF THE MOST POWERFUL MAGICAL OBJECTS THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN FROM EXISTENCE. DUMBLEDORE WANTED YOU TO DIE, SO AT LEAST IN DEATH YOU WOULD BE A MARTYR, AND HE WOULD BE REMEMBERED AS THE ONE WHO TRAINED YOU. HE LEFT BEHIND A FALSE WILL FROM YOU, LEAVING EVERYTHING TO HOGWARTS, THE WEASLEYS, WHOEVER IN THE ORDER WAS LEFT, AND OTHERS. NOTHING WAS LEFT FOR YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR GODSON, NOTHING.

YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU GET THE GIST OF IT. I DON'T THINK I NEED TO GO OVER YEARS 5-7 IN DETAIL. NOW, THERE IS A REASON I'M TELLING YOU ALL THESE THINGS."

"To torment me with the knowledge my whole life has been a lie, and that I'm condemning the people I sought to save to a hellish existence? So many of them died in the last battle… so many."

"NO. I AM TELLING YOU THESE THINGS BECAUSE YOU HAVE A CHANCE TO START OVER AND MAKE IT ALL BETTER."

Death tucked the scroll and glasses back in his cloak and stood and approached the now crying Harry. He gently grasped his shoulders and lifted the boy to his feet. Death reached into thin air and pulled free what looked like liquid glass woven into a solid form. Wrapping the garment around Harry's shoulders, he recognized the silky feel of his Invisibility Cloak. But instead of vanishing, the cloak stayed silvery clear wrapped around Harry. Death fiddled with his bony fingers for a moment before pulling loose a thick gold band with a large black stone set into the center free. The crack was gone now, and the symbol of the Deathly Hallows stood proud and clear on the Resurrection Stone. Death slipped the ring onto Harry's right ring finger, where it fit snugly. Finally Death reached into his cloak and pulled free a long wand. The wand was knobby, with a few small bulging knots every few inches, forming a natural grip from the bottom three knots. Wrapping Harry's fingers around the Elder Wand, Harry felt the same flush of magic he felt when he received his first wand, though a hundred times stronger.

"Why… why are you giving these to me?"

"DUE TO A HIGHLY UNLIKELY AND CIRCUMSTANTIAL SERIES OF COINCIDINCES, REMINISCENT OF EITHER A TERRIBLE WRITER OR A POORLY PLANNED PLOT AND RUSHED DEADLINE, YOU BECAME THE MASTER OF THE HALLOWS."

"How? I've never even held the Elder Wand, and I left the Stone in the forest." Harry argued, looking at the two Hallows in question.

"DUMBLEDORE KNEW HE WAS GOING TO DIE AS SOON AS HE PUT THE RING ON, AND SO HE ACCEPTED HIS OWN DEATH. HE WAS GOING TO ALLOW DRACO MALFOY TO KILL HIM IN ORDER TO BE SPARED DEATH FROM VOLDEMORT. THE ELDER WAND ACKNOWLEDGED DRACO AS ITS NEW MASTER. WHEN YOU DISARMED DRACO, YOU EARNED THE ALLEGIANCE OF HIS WAND, RIGHT?"

"Yeah, Ollivander said I had 'proven myself to it'."

"AND IN DOING SO, YOU CLAIMED THE ELDER WAND AS WELL."

"That… makes absolutely no sense at all. I mean, that's just lazy. It's like someone was writing a story and had no idea how to end it and jumped on the first idea to pop in their head to end it the way they wanted."

"MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY. BUT REGARDLESS OF HOW IT HAPPENED, IT HAPPENED. YOU ARE THE MASTER OF THE HALLOWS, MASTER OF DEATH. MY MASTER. AND SO, I AM OFFERING YOU A CHANCE TO START OVER. A CHANCE TO CHANGE YOUR FUTURE, WHERE VOLDEMORT IS SLAIN WITH MUCH LESS BLOODSHED, YOUR FRIENDS SURVIVE, AND YOU CLAIM THE LIFE YOU DESERVE."

"How? Time travel? I thought that was impossible?"

Death shifted uncomfortably for a minute, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"IT IS, TECHNICALLY. NOT EVEN I CAN CHANGE THE TIME STREAM. BUT AS DEATH, I EXIST SIMULTANEOUSLY IN ALL DIMENSIONS AT THE SAME TIME."

"What do you mean all dimensions?"

"THERE ARE A LIMITLESS NUMBER OF DIMENSIONS, ALL SITTING ALONGSIDE EACH OTHER. AS DEATH I AM FREE TO TRAVEL BETWEEN THEM AT WILL, AND AS MY MASTER I CAN TAKE YOU WITH ME. I CAN TAKE YOU TO A DIMENSION WHERE, RIGHT NOW, IT IS EXACTLY THE SAME AS WHEN YOU WERE SIX YEARS OLD. YOUR SIXTH BIRTHDAY, IN FACT. I WILL TAKE THAT HARRY'S SOUL, AND REPLACE IT WITH YOURS. YOUR MEMORY, YOUR POWER AND EXPERIENCE, AND YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF HOW TO CHANGE THE FUTURE FOR THE BETTER."

"But, that will still leave all of the suffering in this dimension! I can't just leave them here to that."

"UM, WELL, YOU WON'T, ACTUALLY. WHEN WE GO TO THE OTHER DIMENSION, YOUR SOUL WILL CEASE TO EXIST IN THIS ONE. THIS WILL CAUSE A HOLE IN REALITY, WHICH WILL CAUSE THIS DIMENSION TO… IMPLODE. ALL THAT SUFFERING WILL NOT HAPPEN, BECAUSE THIS DIMENSION WILL CEASE TO BE. THE CHOICE IS YOURS, HARRY. STAY IN THIS DIMENSION, ENJOY YOUR AFTERLIFE WHERE MOST OF THEM ARE PISSED AT YOU FOR BEING SO STUPID AS TO TRUST DUMBLEDORE, AND ALLOW THE SUFFERING OF COUNTLESS MILLIONS TO CONTINUE UNABATED. OR YOU CAN STOP ALL THAT SUFFERING, AND GO TO A NEW DIMENSION WHERE YOU WILL BE HAPPY, LOVED, AND CAN TAKE YOUR REVENGE ON THE TWO PEOPLE WHO COMPLETELY SCREWED UP YOUR LIFE BEFORE THEY CAN BRING ABOUT SUCH POWERFUL DESTRUCTION."

"When you put it like that, it sounds like I'd be a complete arsehole if I didn't go to the new dimension. I guess, if it will allow me to change everything… let's go to the new dimension!"

"GOOD CHOICE. THIS WILL HURT A LITTLE BIT…"

"What will hurt-Aaah!" Harry couldn't finish his question, as at that moment Death swung his scythe and knocked Harry's soul into a fine, glittering mist, which swirled in on itself before disappearing. Death looked around his sitting room before flapping his skeletal wings and vanishing with a soft pop.

Exactly 23 seconds later, the universe they just exited imploded.

* * *

"Aaaaah!" Harry screamed, before realizing his voice was a lot higher than it had been a few seconds ago. He wasn't in Death's parlour anymore, he was in a small, cramped cupboard sitting on a broken mattress.

"It worked. It worked! I'm six again! Oh god damnit I'm six again." Harry muttered, looking at his tiny hands.

_"YES. BUT THIS TIME, YOU HAVE ME."_ Echoed a deep voice in the base of Harry's skull.

"Death? Is that you?"

_"YES, I AM HERE. THIS TIME AROUND, THINGS ARE GOING TO GO VERY, VERY DIFFERENT. FIRST, CALL THE HALLOWS TO YOU."_

"But I'm not their master here. The Cloak is locked in Dumbledore's office, the Stone is still buried and cursed, and Dumbledore is still master of the Wand."

_"I CAN EXIST SIMULTANEOUSLY IN ALL DIMENSIONS. SO CAN MY HALLOWS. YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON TO EVER MASTER ALL THREE, AND SO YOU CAN CALL THEM TO YOU. AND I DECIDED TO GIVE YOU A LITTLE HELP, AS WELL. I REMOVED THE HORCRUX IN YOUR SCAR WHEN I REMOVED THIS HARRY'S SOUL-"_

"What did happen to this Harry?"

_"I USED HIS SOUL TO BRING LIFE TO A STILLBORN BABY IN AMERICA. HE WILL BE RAISED BY A KIND AND LOVING FAMILY, AND LIVE A LONG MUNDANE LIFE. I ALSO TOOK THE HORCRUX FROM THE RING. I CAN'T BELIEVE THE BASTARD HAD THE ARROGANCE TO USE ONE OF MY HALLOWS FOR HIS DAMNABLE HORCRUXES. CALL THEM TO YOU HARRY, FOR WE HAVE MUCH TO ACCOMPLISH TODAY."_

"Alright then." Harry cleared his throat, before holding up his hand. "I, Harry James Potter, Master of the Deathly Hallows, call forth my wand, my ring and my cloak."

As the last syllable faded, Harry felt a silky soft weight wrap around his shoulders, a cool metal band encircle his right middle finger, and a long length of wood form in his hand. The three Hallows had responded to his call.

"Wicked. I bet the old man is pissing himself in fear right now that his wand is gone…"

* * *

In a castle many miles away in the Scottish highlands, an old man was tearing his office apart in fear. Albus Dumbledore had been sitting at his desk, reading a few books on goblin etiquette. Today was Harry's sixth birthday, and as such the first day Albus could access his vaults as his Magical Guardian. But all thoughts of stealing from the Potter orphan went right out the window when his wand vanished from his holster. A loud, ear-splitting siren alerted him that the Potter's Invisibility Cloak had also disappeared. Dumbledore flipped his desk over, searching each nook and cranny of his large office for the Elder Wand. Looking in on the madness was Fawkes, standing on a high bookshelf, and the Sorting Hat, perched next to him.

The hat kept chuckling at the exploits of the old man, and Fawkes just shook his head at the man he once bonded with, before realizing just how Dark his soul had become.

* * *

Harry examined the wand held in his small fist. The Elder Wand was filled with so much raw power he could almost feel it humming. Harry pointed the wand at the door to his cupboard and was about to do a simple unlocking charm, when another idea crept into his head.

"Death, do you think I'll ever have to return here ever again?"

_"NO. YOU NEED NEVER SET FOOT ON THE PREMESIS AGAIN. UNLESS YOU WISH TO TAKE SOME REVENGE."_

"And if I use magic with the Elder Wand, will it be traced?"

_"NO ONE CAN TRACE MY WAND."_

"Good. _Bombarda!"_

The blasting hex sent the door to the cupboard flying into the opposite wall, where it stuck a good inch into the plaster. Emerging from the confines of his cupboard for the last time, Harry stretched and looked out the window. It was just before dawn by the looks of the lighting outside. Harry waited a moment, and right on cue he heard the lumbering steps of his whale of an uncle.

"BOY!"

Vernon Dursley raced down the steps, his face a deep purple that looked almost red. Upon seeing Harry, wrapped in a silvery cloak and holding a wand, he let out an inarticulate roar of rage and rushed the boy.

"_Petrificus Totalus._"

The body bind hit Vernon while still on the stairs, causing him to crash into the floor and break his nose. A simple levitation spell had Vernon settled onto the couch, while a quick _scourgify_ cleaned the blood up. A moment later Petunia and Dudley Dursley rushed into the room, Dudley holding a cricket bat. Two more body binds and a few messy levitations and all three Dursleys were seated on the couch.

"_Finite Minimus._" The minor spell-canceling charm freed the heads of the three sitting before him.

"BOY! Let us go this instant! I swear I'll-"

"_Expulso Minimus._" The minor explosion charm Harry shot at his uncle's groin shut him up quite rapidly. There wasn't enough power to cause serious damage, but it would hurt. A lot.

"Now, I felt that we all needed this little chat because I'm going to be leaving soon. And I won't be coming back. So, I just thought we all needed to clear the air. First, you three are the worst examples of human beings I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. As you can see by my wand-" Here Petunia let out a shrill shriek, while Vernon's moaning and crying took on a vaguely insulting tone. "-I have discovered I am a wizard. For sixte- eh, six years, you treated me like garbage. A slave you kept locked in your attic. Er, cupboard. Did you think no one would ever find out? Did you think the rest of the wizarding world would just sit back and let a family of muggles torture a magical child without making you pay for it?" Petunia's face paled at that. Apparently she hadn't thought about that. "Or, did you ever think that I might want revenge? Well, I do. And before I leave, I'm going to have it."

Harry put up a silencing charm on all three of them and turned to the pristine living room he had cleaned countless times in the past. A muttered _reducto _turned a table into a pile of kindling. A few colour changing charms splattered the furniture, walls and ceiling. A conjuration summoned a horde of spiders to infest the house. And so it went, by the time the sun was above the horizon, Number 4 Privet Drive was completely trashed. The furniture was ruined, the rooms scorched and colored, infestations of pests all over the house, filth caked everywhere. It was perfect. Harry waved his wand over the three Dursleys, who had gone pale and limp upon seeing the raw destructive powers Harry could wield. Dudley had wet himself after a giant snake slithered over him.

"The body binds will wear off in an hour. Have a nice life, I won't be in it. I no longer call this place Home, and sever all ties with the family Dursley."

As the wards protecting 4 Privet Drive collapsed, Harry turned on his heel and dissapperated away. If Dumbledore wasn't losing his mind over the loss of his wand, he would have noticed the small silver instrument go off before sputtering and dying signaling the wards were gone.

* * *

Harry skidded and just barely managed to keep himself upright when he landed in the alleyway to the side of the Leaky Cauldron. Death spoke into his mind when he wasn't dizzy anymore.

_"GO TO GRINGOTTS. TELL THE GOBLINS THAT DUMBLEDORE BROKE HIS WORD ON A WILL DRAFTED BY THEM, AND THAT HE WAS GOING TO TRY AND STEAL FROM YOUR VAULTS. MENTIONING THAT YOU HAVE NEVER RECEIVED A BANK STATEMENT AND WERE NEVER MADE AWARE OF YOUR HOLDINGS WILL SEE THEM TRIPPING OVER THEMSELVES TO KEEP YOU AS A CLIENT, SEEING AS YOU ARE ONE OF THEIR LARGEST ACCOUNTS. AFTER DOING THAT, TAKE AN INHERITANCE TEST AND CLAIM THE FOUR LORDSHIPS YOU CAN."_

"Four? I'm the Lord of _four_ families?!"

_"YES. DUMBLEDORE HID THE TRUE LENGTHS OF YOUR WEALTH FROM YOU. AFTER CLAIMING YOUR LORDSHIPS AND EMANCIPATION, MENTION THE CUP IN BELLATRIX'S VAULT IS A HORCRUX, AND THAT YOU CAN BRING THEM TWO OTHERS. THEY WILL THEN GIVE YOU THE CUP AS A REWARD FOR LETTING THEM KNOW, ALONG WITH A FIFTH OF HER VAULT. THEY CAN REMOVE THE HORCRUXES, WITHOUT DAMAGING THE MAGICS IN THE ARTIFACTS. TAKE THE PAINTINGS OF YOUR FOREBEARS AND MOVE INTO POTTER MANOR, IN WALES. BEFORE THAT, THOUGH, ASK FOR A PORTKEY TO ST. MUNGO'S TO HAVE ALL OF THOSE BLOCKS REMOVED. WE WILL DECIDE ON WHAT TO DO NEXT THEN."_

"Okay, I'll get on that. Thank you."

_"YOU ARE WELCOME. REMEMBER TO TREAT THE GOBLINS WITH RESPECT."_

Harry stepped into the streets, and walked into the dingy interior of the Leaky Cauldron, before slipping unseen through the back into the courtyard. Harry tapped the necessary brick and watched as the opening to Diagon Alley rolled open. Since it was still very early, most people weren't up for the day yet. Harry walked quickly through the thankfully empty streets, hurrying towards the polished marble steps of Gringotts. The pair of armored goblins looked strangely at the strangely dressed child entering the bank so early, but opened the doors regardless. Harry pulled the silvery cloak tighter around him, hiding the rags he wore from his time at the Dursleys. Passing through the entry hall and into the bank proper, he looked around the room in awe once more. Last time he was in here, it was under the control of Voldemort's men, and he had broken into Bellatrix's vault and stolen a dragon. Now he was about to become their biggest client, claim four lordships and help them destroy three Horcruxes. What a weird world.

Walking to the nearest open teller, who was counting out large gold coins the size of dinner plates, Harry waited until he was done. After three minutes the goblin counted the last coin and wrote something down in a leather bound ledger.

"Can I assist you?" The goblin asked, having to lean over the counter to see Harry.

Harry bowed slightly to the teller. "Greetings Master Teller. I require an audience with the head of the Potter account at his earliest convenience."

The goblin seemed slightly taken aback with the respectful tone. "And who may I say is asking?"

"Harry Potter."

The goblin's eyes flicked to the scar above Harry's head, which was already fading since Death had removed the Horcrux inside. The teller flipped the sign at his station to 'closed' and waddled away from the counter. "Follow me, please."

Harry followed the goblin through a pair of iron doors at the side of the hall, crossing through a number of hallways and corridors hewn from rough granite. Finally they stopped in front of a bronze door engraved with the word POTTER. Knocking once the goblin opened the door and ushered Harry inside. While the corridors outside were very rough and crude, the office was very comfortable. The walls were paneled in pale wood, the floors covered in white marble. The ceiling was domed, giving the room the feeling of much more space. The wall to the left of the door was one giant bookcase, filled with countless tomes and scrolls. The right wall had a number of weapons hung as decoration, though they all seemed ready for use at a moment's notice. A large window looked down into a giant cavern criss-crossed by tracks and walkways on the back wall. At a large desk made from a dark wood sat a rather plump goblin, though Harry couldn't tell if it was fat or muscle.

"What is it, Teller Sharpclaw?" The goblin growled out softly.

"Harry Potter asked to see you, sir."

"Harry Potter?" The large goblin stood, and Harry could tell it was muscle now, not fat. He may have been wearing a three piece suit, but Harry could still see the outline of a breastplate under his shirt. "Come in, come in Mr. Potter. You are dismissed, Sharpclaw."

"Thank you, Sharpclaw. May your gold flow and enemies fall." Harry said to the departing goblin.

"So, Mister Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure? I am Senior Account Manager Ironspike. I am in charge of the Potter family finances, and have been for the past seventy years."

"Well, Master Ironspike, I believe we have a bit of a problem. Were you at the will making of my parents?"

"Yes, it was done in this very office. Why?"

"And who was the witness to the will?"

"Albus Dumbledore, he was the acting witness along with one Sirius Black. Where are you going with this?"

"Dumbledore deliberately acted in defiance of my parents' will. He sealed the will in the Wizengamot, and then left me with a group specifically designated as never supposed to even have contact with me. He illegally declared himself my Magical Guardian, and kept me ignorant of my family's holdings. I have never once received a bank statement from Gringotts, or been told about my accounts here. I'm not even sure if my family owned any properties besides the one in Godric's Hollow. In fact, thanks to some information given to me by a trusted source, I came here today because I feared that he was going to try and steal from my vaults today, since this is my sixth birthday, and the first time he is allowed into my vaults as my Magical Guardian. As you can see, this is all pretty serious."

As Harry told his tale, Ironspike grew paler and paler, before then suddenly practically glowing red with rage.

"We have a copy of your parents' will on record. Let me just grab it." Ironspike growled. He walked over to the bookcase and browsed through the scrolls before pulling loose a newer scroll and walking back to the desk. He broke the seal and held it up to read.

"'I, James Charlus Potter, and I, Lily Evans Potter, both of sound mind and body, declare this to be our final will and testament. This will, written September 20th in the year 1981, shall render all previous wills null and void.

To our friend Sirius Black, we leave you the thing most precious to us. We name you Harry's Godfather, leave you the Potter Manor to raise him in, and 2 million Galleons. Raise him right, Padfoot, and keep him safe.

To our friend Remus Lupin, we leave our home and vineyard in the south of France, along with 2 million Galleons. You deserve it Moony, don't think you don't. Find a nice girl and settle down.

To Peter Pettigrew, our secret keeper, we leave you 2 million Galleons. I hope to god that it doesn't happen, but Wormtail, if you are the cause of our death we leave you instead 30 Sickles, to be tossed through the Veil along with you.

To Frank and Alice Longbottom, we leave One million Galleons each. Alice, you're Harry's Godmother, so if something happens to Sirius, please take care of him.

To Minerva McGonagall, we leave 50,000 Galleons and hope that Harry's Aunt Minnie becomes a part of his life.

To our friend Amelia Bones, we leave 50,000 Galleons and the hopes that you manage to find something in life to live for besides the desk of an auror.

To Andromeda Tonks, we leave 50,000 Galleons, and hope that Harry and Nymphadora might grow up to be the cousins we all know they act like.

To our old friends Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, we leave the potion ingredient farms in Louisiana, and Africa, to help further their research.

Everything else is to be left to our son, Hadrian James Potter. He is to be named as the Lord Potter as soon as this will is read, and entrusted to one of the following parties in descending order according to availability:

Sirius Black, his Godfather.

Alice Longbottom, his Godmother.

Remus Lupin, longtime friend.

Minerva McGonagall, longtime friend.

Amelia Bones, longtime friend.

Andromeda Tonks, James' second cousin and longtime friend.

Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, longtime friends of the House Potter.

If none of the above parties are available, Harry is to be given to the offices of Magical Children's Services to find a suitable home, which shall receive a monthly allowance of 500 Galleons until Harry comes of age.

Under NO circumstances is Harry to be given to his maternal aunt Petunia. She should not be notified of our deaths, or of our wills.

Witnessed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock.

Witnessed by Sirius Black, Master Auror and Heir to House Black.'"

Harry sat there, stunned. Death had told him he had been arranged to go with other people, but to hear his parents' words on the matter was something else entirely. He could have grown up with Neville as a brother. He could have been taught by Remus from day one. He could have been raised by McGonagall, who from the sound of it was a lot closer to him as a baby then as a child. Harry remembered Susan Bones, she was shy but pretty nice. He could have had her as a sister growing up. Tonks! He could have had Tonks as a big sister.

Harry started crying, thinking about all the things that could have been, had one man's greed and vanity not ruined his life.

"Am I to assume you did not end up with any of the people on this list, Mr. Potter?"

Ironspike asked, in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"I was placed in a basket and left on the Dursleys' doorstep the day after my parents were killed, without any form of medical treatment or letting anyone from Magical Children's Services know where I was. Dumbledore himself placed me there, tucking a letter into my blankets for my aunt."

"That is enough for me. Dumbledore has broken our trust, and the trust placed to him by your family. He is no longer allowed to do business within our bank. Half of his vault is forfeit to the goblin nation for betraying our trust, as is standard vault rental policy, and a third of the remainder is to be gifted to you as the one most impacted by his actions. We can commence the emancipation and lordship ceremonies in a few hours."

"Thank you Master Ironspike. I would also like to take an inheritance test, if possible. I believe I am possibly the heir of a number of families."

"That can also be arranged. Why don't you wait in my lounge, I'll have someone come up with some refreshments in a moment."

"Thank you." Harry got to his feet, once again surprised at the fact that he was a couple feet shorter then he was yesterday. He followed Ironspike through a hidden door on the weapons wall into a small lounge. Two sofas sat on either side of an oval table, and a few non-moving paintings hung on the wall. Harry sat down on the plush sofa, and stretched out, settling onto the couch. He hadn't realized it before, but he was pretty tired.

"As soon as the proper paperwork and offices are notified, we'll have all this sorted out. I'll leave you to it, and I'll be back when everything is settled."

Harry thanked Ironspike and settled back onto the couch.

"How did you know that the goblins would help me?"

_"IT HAPPENS A LOT IN OTHER DIMENSIONS. AQUIRING THE AID OF THE GOBLINS USUALLY LEADS YOU TO FIND OUT YOU ARE THE HEIR OF COUNTLESS ANCIENT FAMILIES, OR THEM UNBLOCKING ALL OF YOUR GODLIKE POWERS, OR DISCOVERING A STACK OF CENTURY OLD MARRIAGE CONTRACTS THAT YOU ARE THEN FORCED TO HONOR. IN POSSIBLY ONE OF THE MOST ENTERTAINING DIMENSIONS, YOU ARE ADOPTED BY THE GOBLINS AND NAMED CROW_ (1)_. IT IS A VERY GOOD STORY. I'M WATCHING WITH RAPT ATTENTION."_

"Okay then. Um, will any of that happen here?"

_"NO. NOT REALLY. YOU ARE THE HEIR TO FOUR FAMILIES, AND THAT IS IT. IN THIS DIMENSION GOBLINS ARE MASTERS OF PLACING WARDS AND BINDING SPELLS, BUT CAN'T REMOVE THEM THAT WELL. THAT IS WHY YOU NEED TO HEAD TO ST. MUNGO'S AFTER ALL THIS IS TAKEN CARE OF. AND WHEN ALL THOSE ARE GONE, YOU WILL BE SIGNIFICANTLY MORE POWERFUL, BUT YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO LEVEL A BUILDING WITH A SNEEZE OR ANYTHING RIDICULOUS. CURRENTLY YOU'RE AT ABOUT 20-25% OF YOUR FULL POTENTIAL. AND YOUR ANIMAGUS FORM IS LOCKED. I'LL LEAVE YOU TO DISCOVER IT FOR YOURSELF. THERE IS ALSO A BLOCK ON YOUR MENTAL CAPACITIES, DRAINING YOUR IQ BY AT LEAST FIFTY POINTS. SO WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE YOU WILL BE PRETTY POWERFUL, VERY WEALTHY, VERY INTELLIGENT AND PREPARED FOR THE FUTURE."_

"Good then. Hopefully I don't go overboard in this dimension with all that stuff."

_"THAT REMAINS TO BE SEEN."_

Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, waiting for his future to change.

* * *

After what felt like only a few minutes of sleep, Harry felt his small frame being shaken awake. Blinking open tired eyes, Harry looked into the grinning face of Ironspike. Not the most pleasant thing to wake up to, that's for sure.

"Mr. Potter, we have arranged for everything that you requested. If you'll just follow me, we can finish off all this nasty business once and for all."

"Thank you Ironspike."

Harry got up and followed the goblin back into his office. There were another three goblins loitering around Ironspike's desk, watching Harry with interest.

"Harry, this is Inheritance Director Sharpslash," The goblin who bowed was rather tall for his people, and more than a passing resemblance to the teller Harry spoke to earlier.

"the Head of our Legal Department Goldgrim," This goblin was very fat, but had a noticeable touch of good humour in his eyes, which were glancing at Harry from behind golden half-moon spectacles, much like Dumbledore's.

"and finally, the Manager of Familial Accounts and Affairs, Leadgut." The last goblin wore robes, with a metal belt of looped gold holding up a dagger. He looked vaguely important, in a ceremonial sort of way.

"They are here to help finish up the issues you brought up. First will be Goldgrim, so we can get you emancipated so you can then claim the Lordship of your family."

Goldgrim hefted a stack of parchment and settled it onto the desk in front of Harry.

"Normally, all requests for emancipation go through the Wizengamot, where Dumbledore is Chief Warlock, and could block all attempts. But luckily, this is in relation to an ascending Lordship, which is left up to the previous Lord where it can occur. Your parents trusted the bank to handle this, so all we have to do is inform the Wizengamot of the change in status."

"But won't Dumbledore still find out?" Harry asked, concerned. Goldgrim smiled smugly, revealing a sharp gold fang.

"Ah, but your Ministry refuses to accept any direct mail from us. We will send in the status forms with our quarterly inputs to the Offices of the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, where all mail between our two people must be sent. By the time the form is discovered, checked and sent to the Wizengamot, you'll probably have graduated Hogwarts!"

"That is sneaky, treacherous and underhanded. I like it!" Harry took the Blood Quill from Goldgrim's claws and started signing the forms where he indicated. After a few minutes, the last page was signed and the entire bundle glowed blue before splitting into three copies.

"One for the Ministry, one for Legal, and one for Ironspike here. Have a nice day, Mr. Potter." Goldgrim left the office carrying two copies of the forms. Ironspike took one and shelved it amongst other Potter family records. Sharpslash took the recently vacated chair and set out a sheet of pure white parchment, a small bowl of beaten and engraved gold, a simple dagger engraved with a number of runes, a quill and a glass bottle full of ink.

"Mr. Potter, I am Sharpslash, and I will be conducting your inheritance test. All I need for you to do is cut your finger, and allow a few drops of blood to fall into the bowl. I can do the rest."

Harry shrugged and picked up the dagger. He slit the tip of his index finger and squeezed it, allowing a few drops of blood to drop into the bowl. After a gesture from Sharpslash healed his finger, Harry settled back. The goblin emptied the bottle of ink into the bowl, and stirred the mix with the dagger. He then placed the quill into the mixture, and it quickly absorbed the ink/blood solution. Sharpclaw then placed the ink-filled quill on the parchment, where it began writing on its own. After a minute, the quill neatly settled itself on the side of the parchment. Sharpslash glanced at the parchment, grunted, then handed it back to Harry. Harry looked down to see what families he belonged to.

**Name: Hadrian James Potter**

**Parents: James Charlus Potter (D)**

** Lily Evans nee Potter (D)**

**Age: 6 (Physically)**

**Marital Status: None**

**Life Debts: 0 Owed, 0 Owned**

**Family History: Ancient and Noble House of Potter (Heir)**

** Most Ancient House of Peverell (Heir)**

** Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Gryffindor (Heir)**

** Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Ravenclaw (Heir)**

"Well," Harry said after a moment, "didn't see that coming."

"Yes. Neither did I." Sharpslash said, gazing at Harry with interest. "I was looking through your family tree while you were gazing at your newfound family," he hefted up a leather bound book, "and have determined how you came to be related to each family."

Sharpslash laid out the family genealogy and pointed to an entry from the early 9th century.

"Irmina Peverell, the Squib daughter of the last Lord Peverell, married the muggleborn wizard Anthony Potter in the year 822 A.D. He was named the Lord Potter-Peverell, and inherited all the lands and wealth of the Peverell line. His great-grandson took the title Lord Potter, and every generation since has done so as well. The Peverell line is considered the single oldest in all of Great Britain, and holds three seats in the Wizengamot. Now, as to the others."

Sharpshard flipped a few pages in the book.

"It is a little known fact that all of the Hogwarts founders were married. Salazar Slytherin was married to a pureblood witch from France, Helga Hufflepuff was married to a muggleborn wizard she met in the hospital she ran, and Rowena… Rowena was married twice. Her first marriage was to a wealthy, but otherwise unknown, pureblood lord. Her father, the Lord Ravenclaw, made the pair wed through use of a marriage contract. After a few years of marriage, her husband left Rowena, pregnant with their firstborn child, to marry a prostitute he met while travelling through the east.

Godric Gryffindor had loved Rowena for a few years, and when he found out what happened he slew her former husband in a duel and married her. She gave birth to her daughter, Helena Ravenclaw. Rowena and Godric then had two children of their own, a son named Antione Gryffindor and a daughter named Robin. In the year 1466, the last member of the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw line, Bella Gryffindor, married the Lord Marcus Potter, integrating both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw lines into the Potter family. The Gryffindor line held two hereditary seats, and the Ravenclaw line held three."

Sharpshard closed the book and tapped the parchment detailing Harry's family history. Four small boxes appeared on top of it.

"These are the four Lord's Rings for the families you head, Lord Potter-Peverell-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw." Sharpclaw said, smirking while saying his whole title. "Once they accept you, Leadgut can then inform you about your new holdings."

Harry, unnoticed by the goblins, slipped the Resurrection Stone ring onto his left middle finger. He then reached out to open the closest box, which had the word 'Potter' engraved on top in gold script. The ring inside was beautiful. A thick silver band held a beautifully cut rectangle ruby, which had silver engravings of the Potter crest on top. The crest detailed a gauntleted hand grasping a wand above a sleeping griffin, surrounded by ivy, topped by a "P". The band was engraved with the family motto, _"Audaces Fortuna Iuvat"_.

"What does the motto mean?" Harry asked, examining the ring.

"'Fortune Favors the Bold', I believe. The first Lord Potter chose it because he asked his wife, Irmina Peverell, to marry him after meeting her once. His boldness was rewarded with wealth, power and a loving family."

Harry took the heavy ring and slipped it onto his right ring finger. He felt a brief pulse of magic flood through his body, as if testing him, before the ring shrank to fit his finger. The box it was held in disappeared.

"Good. You are now officially the Lord Potter. Hopefully the other rings will accept you as well."

Harry took the oldest looking box, marked 'Peverell'. The family ring was a simple band made out of three braided strands of gold, silver and bronze with an ornate letter "P" made out of gold on top. Harry slid the ring onto his right pinky. The pulse of magic was a bit weaker, but lasted longer before it too resized itself and the box disappeared. The Gryffindor ring was, unsurprisingly, golden with a large rectangular ruby. The band was carved to look like chainmail, while two rearing griffins with ruby eyes held the main ruby from either side. Two swords crossed underneath an ornate latter "G", while a crown sat atop the ruby. This ring went onto his middle finger. The pulse of magic this ring sent out caused Harry to almost fall out of his seat, but the same result occurred as with the other two. Finally, a shaking Harry picked up the Ravenclaw ring. It was made out of bronze, and was set with an oval sapphire. Two ravens sat on either side of the gem, staring at Harry with tiny sapphire eyes. A book, opened away from him, sat underneath a large, simple "R", while a wand was laid flat over the letter. Carefully sliding the ring onto his index finger, a similar pulse to the Gryffindor one actually managed to knock Harry to the floor. When he managed to regain his seat, the ring fit snugly and the last box was gone.

_"THE PULSES WERE THE OLD FAMILIY MAGICKS CHECKING TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE WHO YOU SAY YOU ARE. THE CONNECTIONS ARE OLD, AND BURIED, BUT THERE. THAT IS WHY THEY TOOK SO MUCH POWER TO FIND."_

Death offered into Harry's still frazzled mind.

"Well, that was… interesting." Harry choked out, staring at his new rings.

Sharpslash looked highly pleased.

"Yes, and entertaining. Thank you for your time, Lord Potter-Peverell-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw. Have a profitable day." The goblin left the room, and finally Leadgut settled into Ironspike's chair. Ironspike settled next to Harry.

"Well, we have quite a few things for you to go over, milord." Leadgut said smoothly. His voice was surprisingly glassy for a goblin. "I'll leave Ironspike to go over the Potter accounts, but the other three were entrusted to me, as Head of Familial Accounts, years ago."

He pulled three ledgers, one noticeably thinner than the other two.

"Now, easy one first. The Peverell family was integrated into the Potter family to save it from being absorbed by the Ministry since Irmina was a squib, and was for all accounts and purposes nonexistent to the Ministry. There is no money or land with this account, but a small vault containing a few heirlooms was sealed for only the Lord Peverell. It's mostly books with a few pieces of jewelry thrown in. More importantly are your seats on the Wizengamot, which have been held by proxies who have abstained from voting, as is custom, for over two hundred years. You have three of them under the Peverell name. You will want to claim them, or appoint your own proxies as soon as possible."

Leadgut closed the small ledger and opened a larger one.

"The Gryffindor family vaults contain 233,560 Galleons, 11 Sickles and 13 Knuts. They also contain an excess of one million Galleons worth of rare books, weaponry, armor and heirlooms. I believe a painting of Godric also rests in the vault. The Gryffindor family castle, named the Griffin's Haven at its construction, was renamed and used to found Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ownership of the building itself, along with 25% percent ownership of the school, passes to you. This comes along with ownership of the grounds and the plot of land known as the "forbidden forest". You also inherit the two Wizengamot seats, which have been held by non-voting proxies for centuries."

Another ledger set aside, and another one opened.

"The Ravenclaw vaults only contain 104,268 Galleons, 3 Sickles in liquid assets. Although the amount of books, magical artifacts and heirlooms is estimated at last accounting to be worth in excess of three million Galleons. The Ravenclaw family's ancestral home is Ravenclaw Manor, located in southern Scotland. They also own a small island in the Mediterranean Sea known simply as 'The Nest', which contains a small villa and vineyard. As with the Gryffindor lordship, you inherit 25% ownership of the school, and three Wizengamot seats that need to be addressed."

Leadgut set the last ledger aside and stared at Harry over his folded hands. "The other two founders left notes in their wills that stated if their lines should fall extinct, their percentages of ownership of the school should fall to the living lines. Hufflepuff's line went extinct in the early 1800's, and Slytherin still has a single living member. Her ownership is split between you two, leaving you with a 62.5% ownership of Hogwarts School. Through the three families you also control eight Wizengamot seats. You, Mr. Potter, are a very powerful individual. I will cease taking up Ironspike's time and let him inform you of your interests with the Potter family finances."

Leadgut left the office, leaving Harry alone with Ironspike, who finally retook his seat.

"Well, Mr. Potter, let's finally end this all, eh?" he hefted out a large ledger, thicker than either of the other three.

"The Potter family vaults contain 416,510,666 Galleons, 6 sickles and 17 Knuts. There are also, of course, a large number of heirlooms that increase the value. The last addition to the vault was a painting, done of your parents only a month before their deaths. I do believe you'll be wanting that. You have inherited a number of properties, including the Potter Manor, in the south of Wales. The Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow, although in ruins, is also yours. A small island in the Bahamas called, and I quote from the deed itself, "Prongs' Hideaway from his Tiger-Lily", was given to your father by Sirius Black on his 21st birthday. It has a small cabana, and a plantation of coconut trees. You also have a vineyard in the south of France, a villa on the Italian coast just north of Naples, a castle in Russia and an apartment building in New York City, in America. You own a few businesses, including the two magical ingredient farms mentioned in your parents' wills. You also own the Nimbus Broom Company, and the Diagon Alley shop Eeylop's Owl Emporium. You have a controlling interest in the Quidditch team Puddlemere United, and the Irish National Quidditch Team. The Potter family controls five seats on the Wizengamot, which have been held by proxies since the deaths of your grandparents. All in all, Lord Potter, you are a very wealthy individual."

Ironspike closed the ledger and pulled a single sheet of paper from the ledger.

"In total, you have complete control of the Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw vaults, totaling 416,848,494 Galleons in liquid assets. You own approximately 140 million Galleons in property. You are the primary owner of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and therefore have absolute control on the ongoings of the school. You control 13 seats on the Wizengamot, the most any single member has held in two hundred years. Just sign a few documents, and we can finalize things here."

A few documents turned out to be an hour of signing papers, some with a Blood Quill. But finally, rubbing his aching hand, Harry was an emancipated Lord ready to live his own life.

"Alright Lord Potter, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, can I get a ride down to my vaults? I wish to inspect them and make a withdrawal. I'll also need a portkey to Potter Manor, if that can be arranged. And, um, is there any way I can get a portkey to St. Mungo's?"

"Are you feeling unwell, Lord Potter? We have some rather skilled healers here, if you would prefer not to move." Ironspike asked, concerned.

"No, nothing like that. I recently learened that Dumbledore also placed a number of blocks on me, and would like to ask the staff at St. Mungo's to look into it."

"Yes, that might be for the best. My people are not the most skilled at _removing_ such spells. Though we are skilled at placing them, if you can ever get Dumbledore in here…" Ironspike suggestively trailed off.

Harry laughed. "I'll remember that. Can you do it?"

"I'll have them waiting when you get back from the vaults. Griphook!"

A small, nervous goblin entered the room a minute later, introducing himself as Intern-Assistant Griphook, who led Harry down into the bowels of the bank. Pressing his Lord ring against the seal in front of the vault caused the great metal door to creak open, allowing Harry entrance into his family's caverns of wealth.

Passing countless stacks of gold and silver, cases filled with jewelry, bookcases stuffed with rare tomes, and chests whose contents were unknown, Harry came to large, covered easel. Heart pounding, Harry pulled back the sheet and almost cried.

The painting was well done, and had a simple, golden frame. The painting depicted a living room, with a window showing a sunlit yard full of trees, a comfortable fireplace and a sofa. Curled up against each other, sleeping on the sofa, were James and Lily Potter.

Harry reached up and touched the canvas, tears in his eyes.

"Mum? Dad?"

At his voice a spark moved throughout the painting, awakening the inhabitants. Lily woke first, yawning and stretching her arms. Rubbing her eyes, she turned towards Harry and froze.

"James! James wake up!" She shouted, feverishly shaking James' arm. James Potter woke with a start, looking at his wife then at his son.

"Harry?" He whispered.

"Mum! Dad!" Harry cried, trying to hug the painting.

"Harry," Lily said, sobbing and reaching forward to place her hand against the surface of the painting. "My god, look how big you've gotten! How old are you now?"

"I'm- I'm six mum. Today's my sixth birthday."

"Six? Sirius should have brought you here when you were four. Where is he, by the way?" James asked, looking around the vault.

"There's, there's just so much to tell you guys. I'll explain everything later. But Sirius didn't end up with me. Dumbledore sealed your will and left me with Petunia."

"PETUNIA!" Lily roared with rage. "He left you with them! I'll wring his wrinkly neck! You'll tell us everything, right?"

"Of course mum, but not now. I have a few more vaults to look through, then a trip to St. Mungos. I'll explain everything when we get to Potter Manor."

Harry drew the Elder Wand and tapped the picture frame, shrinking the life-size painting to fit in his pocket. He filled a small sack Griphook had given him with about three hundred Galleons from one of the giant piles. Harry wandered back to the goblin and left for the next vault.

The Gryffindor vault was very untidy. Piles of gold were mixed in with pieces of jewelry and books. But the stands of armor and racks of weapons were elegantly kept. Harry looked appraisingly before coming across a large painting on the back wall. It depicted a comfortable glen, with a small cottage in the background, and a comfortable moss covered tree to nestle against in the foreground. Curled up under the tree was a large man with fiery red hair hanging down to his shoulders and a curly beard. He had a nose that had been broken many times, a deep scar running down the left side of his face and it looked like half his bottom lip was missing. Though he kept an air of kind nobleness about him. Crimson robes edged in gold were spilled open, revealing a suit of golden armor with an image of a griffin imprinted on the chest. A silver sword with rubies imbedded in the hilt hung at his side. Harry leaned forward and the beak of a griffin carved into the picture frame cut his thumb. It swallowed the drop of blood and a spark ran across the painting, causing Godric to blink his eyes open. His left eye, in the middle of the scar, was gone. In its place was a polished round ruby.

"Hello? Who have we here? A descendant of mine, perhaps, coming to hear words of wisdom from his esteemed ancestor?"

"Hello, sir. Er, you're Godric Gryffindor, right?"

"Quite right, my boy, quite right! I am the esteemed warrior-mage Godric Gryffindor, master of wand and blade, the Lionhearted, co-founder of Hogwarts! And who are you, my child?"

"I am the Lord Hadrian Potter, a descendant of yours many years lost from the name Gryffindor. I was unaware any of the founders had paintings, or if they did I thought they'd be at Hogwarts."

"Oh, we all had paintings. Though Salazar kept his locked in that creepy basilisk room. And poor Helga's was lost to a fire soon after her death. The world is the poorer for the loss of her medical knowledge. Say, if you're a relation of mine, you must be able to enter Rowena's Vault?"

"It's my next stop."

"Excellent! I don't know what it is about you my boy, but I like you. Recover my better half's painting, and let us speak as a family."

Even though Harry hated it when Dumbledore called him "my boy", he liked it when Godric did it. It may have been because Godric meant it, as it was a term of endearment to his centuries removed grandson. Shrinking the painting, Harry noticed the numerous swords and other sharp implements carved along the frame. He slid it in a different pocket than the painting of his parents.

The Ravenclaw vault would have had Hermione gushing and having wet dreams for months afterwards. Bookcases as tall as the cavernous room were everywhere, forming little "rooms". There were a few wooden chests marked things like "gold", "jewelry", "clothing", and etcetera. It appeared that Rowena was a bit of a neatfreak. Near the center of the vault was an easel holding a painting of… a library.

Seated at a desk was a sleeping witch. She was very pretty, with glossy black hair, high, proud features, and a smiling face even in sleep. Even wearing loose blue and bronze robes, Harry could tell she had a slim, graceful figure. Harry was thinking she was quite beautiful, when he remembered she was his countless greats grandmother. Seeing a sharp raven's beak, Harry smeared his cut finger against it. Like Godric's painting, this caused Rowena's to wake. Her eyes were a deep violet blue, almost black.

"Oh my head, how long have I been sleeping? Ah, an heir of mine! Hello little one, I am your I-have-no-idea-how-many-times-great-grandmother, Rowena. Who are you?"

Harry was expecting a stern, domineering woman, like Madame Pince. This woman was very friendly, with a lyrical voice that offset her husband's gravelly one.

"Hello Rowena, my name is Harry Potter. I recently came into my inheritance, and decided to take a look around my vaults. I am pleasantly surprised to find a painting of you."

"A pleasure to meet you, Harry. I hope that we will be leaving this dark and dreary vault soon? I haven't been outside since… um, what year is it?"

"1986."

"Oh my! I haven't been outside since Helena brought me here in 1028. I have a lot to catch up on. Well, let's go! Do you already have Godric?"

"In my pocket."

"Splendid! Onward!"

Harry shrunk her painting and slipped it into the same pocket as his parents, since the only sharp piece of her frame was the raven, which had turned inwards after Rowena awoke.

Taking the cart back to the surface Harry reentered Ironspike's office, where the goblin was waiting with two objects. A dagger and a pendant with the crest of the Potter family sat on his desk.

"Hello Lord Potter. Everything go well?"

"Of course, Ironspike. Are those the portkeys?"

"Yes, the dagger will take you to the entry hall of St. Mungo's, while the pendant is a permanent portkey to Potter Manor keyed to the word 'Sanctuary'."

"Thank you for all your assistance Ironspike. Since I assume that the time of so many fine important members of the goblin nation isn't free, charge whatever the cost of today has been from the amount taken from Dumbledore's account, and deposit the rest in the Potter account. I also wish to have my trust vault reabsorbed into the Potter vault. Oh, and make sure that only I can access any of the four vaults. Okay?"

"It shall be done, Lord Potter. Is there any last business you need to conduct?"

"Oh, right. There was one other thing. Nearly slipped my mind." Harry chuckled, for it nearly _had_ slipped his mind. "My source, who told me about Dumbledore, said to tell you that you should check a, um, what was it…" Harry pretended to think about the vault. "LeStrange vault for a whorecrix? Hoorcrax? I don't remember the name. He also called it a soul-jar, and that you would want to know. It's made from a cup Helga Hufflepuff owned."

Ironspike's face took on a new shade of red even Vernon never matched. He started roaring in Gobbledygook, before slamming his fist on a Gringotts seal on his desk. A swarm of armed goblins burst into the room, and Ironspike shouted directions at them. They looked as angry as he was when they left the room. Ironspike managed to reign in his temper some.

"Thank you for the tip, Lord Potter. You might be receiving an owl from us soon. Have a nice day." He managed to spit out from between his teeth.

Sensing that it would be a good idea to leave, Harry picked up the pendant and slipped it over his head, before grabbing the dagger and feeling the uncomfortable feeling of having a fishing hook catch behind his navel while the floor suddenly dissolved.

* * *

Picking himself up from his heap on the floor, Harry found himself in a white room with a number of chairs along the wall. A desk was set between two double-doors, and a nurse in white robes sat behind the desk.

"Can I help you young man?" The nurse asked hesitantly. Harry was only a kid, but the nurse could see the Lord rings on his finger, and could just tell that whatever that cloak was made of must be rare and expensive.

"Yes, I'd like an appointment with whoever can take a number of highly powerful and borderline dark blocks off of me. And someone who can take care of a scar of mine." Harry asked politely.

A few minutes waiting led to him speaking to Healer Gütbalm. After explaining that he was fairly sure he was being blocked of almost 80% of his magic, the healer cast a few diagnostic spells, and nearly fell off of his chair. He explained to Harry that he had _sixteen_ blocks on his magic alone, and it was a miracle he wasn't a squib. There was a specialized block for animagus talents, a block on mental fortitude, and a block keeping his muscles from growing properly. According to Healer Gütbalm, all but the mildest of the magical blocks were placed at the same time by the same person, while the other was standard block most parents put on abnormally talented children.

Following the discussions of removing them, Harry found himself lying buck naked in the middle of three runic circles while a dozen St. Mungo's certified curse- and spell-breakers chanted around him. Following the mother of all headaches and a seizure as all of Harry's blocked magic decided to become intimately reacquainted with him, he asked about his now useless scar. A nurse took care of it with a dab of ointment and a muttered spell.

After paying for the treatments, Harry finally activated his Potter Manor portkey. With a cry of "Sanctuary", Harry left St. Mungo's to settle in to his new home.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore strolled into Gringotts, trying to calm his racing mind. After a day of searching his room for the Elder Wand, Albus had come to a conclusion. If the Potter Cloak was the Cloak of True Invisibility, as he had been coming to suspect, then it may have returned to the Potter vaults as today was the Potter Heir's first day he could claim the vault. Being so close to another Hallow may have caused the Wand to be transported with it. All he had to do was enter the Potter vault and recover the cloak and wand, along with all the gold he could carry. He was also pretty sure James and Lily had a painting in the vault. That would have to go, couldn't have them talking to Harry. The boy might decide not to follow along with the plans. Entering the bank, Albus asked to speak with Ironspike immediately. Being led to the Potter account manager, Albus was slightly concerned when the goblin in question had a look of raw rage on his face, which immediately turned into a sickly grin upon seeing the aged wizard. When the door behind him closed with a click signaling it was now locked, Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Defeater of Grindelwald, Chief Warlock and the only man Voldemort ever feared, gulped loudly and fearfully.

**Line break**

** A/N: Well that was fun. I actually have some pretty high hopes for this one. Let me know what you think, and leave a review. Also, I'm of two minds about Snape. I ****_like_**** good!Snape stories, but I have absolutely no skill at writing them. I know. I've tried. Many, many times. So here's what I'm asking my good readers. Should,**

**A) Harry get rid of him as soon as possible, preferably in a painful, humiliating manner, or**

**B) Should Harry keep Snape around for the whole story to abuse as he sees fit. After all, Dumbles would keep Snape around in some fashion, even if he were forced to fire him.**

**Alright, that's it then, see you all next time!**

**(1) The "dimension" in question is the story "Harry Crow", by robst. Easily my favourite HP story on the site, go read it. Right now. Go.**


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